


Nights

by swampthot



Series: Charbitch Cinematic Universe [2]
Category: It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampthot/pseuds/swampthot
Summary: little prompt fill from tumblr. Charlie comes over to the scientist’s lab to distract him.





	Nights

The scientist, sitting in his lab space, is so intently focused on his work he doesn’t even hear Charlie enter the room, isn’t even aware of his presence until he feels Charlie’s hand brush against his shoulder.

“Aah!” He jumps and spins around to face him, scattering everywhere the papers he had so intently been poring over. He squints and sighs in relief.

“Charlie.” Then he frowns. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Actually, it’s two in the morning, dude,” Charlie says cheerfully, at which the scientist sighs.

“I’m so behind. I have to put this- Bloody study together so I can present it to-“ he begins to gather up the spilled papers as Charlie watches impassively. “Why did you drop in at this time of night, Charlie?”

Charlie smiles briefly, and there is an echo of genuine mischief in his eyes, but he does look just slightly troubled. “I missed you.”

It is so plaintive and sweet, and so very Charlie, it wrenches the scientist’s heart a little. He feels himself relax just a bit, in spite of his still-impending deadline. “I know, darling-“ and it does satisfy him so to see the corners of Charlie’s mouth curve up upon hearing the word ‘darling’- “but I need to get this finished.”

Charlie looks at the floor for a second, and then almost turns to go.

“Wait,” the scientist says, mentally kicking himself for not being able to resist the man. “Charlie, what’s wrong?”

Charlie looks up from the floor, and the scientist sees his green eyes swimming, nary drowning, in an emotion the scientist could never put a name to but could always recognize on his face.

“Did you have a nightmare, Charlie?” He asks this as gently as he can, not wanting to upset him, or pry. Charlie bites his lip.

“I mean,” Charlie begins slowly. “I get them all the time.” Hearing this makes the scientist more than a little pained, but he just nods slowly. “And I didn’t wanna bother you, but I just thought- it would make me feel better to see-“ Charlie is doing that thing again, where when he got frustrated trying to use words, he would drop off sentences.

“About- the nightman?” The scientist knows that it’s easier for Charlie to refer to the man still haunting him as some kind of mythic figure, but he had known enough to make the connection that Charlie had underwent some kind of very real and very bad abuse as a child.

Charlie does not respond, and so the scientist reaches out, trying, with all his might, to make Charlie feel understood with touch rather than words. Charlie takes his hand gently and hesitantly. He pulls Charlie the last few feet gently to the stool upon which he is sitting, and wraps his arms around Charlie, burying his face in his torso. He feels Charlie relax in his embrace just then, as if he’s been holding in a breath. Maybe ever since they started talking.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the scientist mumbles, still pressing his face into Charlie. Charlie’s hands slide up hesitantly, finally coming to rest gently in the scientist’s hair.

“No,” Charlie says, softly. “Thank you.”

After a moment of holding him, breathing in his aura and trying desperately to radiate calm energy into his body, the scientist pulls back and looks at him seriously. “I’m very sorry, Charlie.”

“I know.”

They stand looking at each other for a moment longer, and then Charlie picks up one of the papers on the scientist’s desk and scans idly over it, not bothering to conceal how little of it he understands.

“Would you like me to read it to you, Charlie?”

Charlie blinks, surprised. “Um, sure. Yeah.”

The scientist takes the paper gently and begins to read to him in a soft, slow, but not too slow voice, demonstrating both that he knows Charlie can keep up with him and he doesn’t want to leave him behind. He reads like this for about five minutes, and then Charlie stops him on a word.

“What was that?”

“Quantitative,” the scientist says patiently.

“Quanti-“

“Quantitative.”

“Quantitative,” Charlie repeats with more confidence. The scientist looks at him with a small measure of admiration for how quickly he picked it up, and then Charlie catches the expression on his face, and repeats the word again. “Quantitative.” He’s been steadily leaning forward during the course of this conversation, and now his face is mere inches away from the scientist’s own. He slides his hand up the scientist’s arm, and the scientist freezes, takes a breath, hears the paper hit the floor. The expression in Charlie’s eyes is doing something to the scientist’s heartbeat.

“Am I saying it right?” Charlie says, half-whispers, more like, almost talking directly into the scientist’s mouth, and then smirks, drops his gaze downward, and closes the gap between them.

Charlie kisses him with a bit more ardor and intensity than usual; in fact, his style at the moment, is downright filthy, as one of his hands comes back to twine in the scientist’s hair and he bites the scientist’s bottom lip. Charlie, excellent at reading people as he was in his own way, he definitely knew how hot the scientist found it when he said those big words, and he was definitely using it against him. Shameful.

The scientist breaks the kiss to breathe out a pathetic, “I- Mhm-“ as Charlie trails slow kisses down his neck. “I have to get back to work.” This attempt is undercut somewhat by the loud moan he makes when Charlie gently and teasingly begins to suck a hickey into the sensitive space under his jaw.

“Nah,” Charlie mumbles, “I bet it can wait.” God, the scientist thinks as his mouth is recaptured rather aggressively by Charlie’s own, he’s entirely too much.

“I-“

“Please,” Charlie breathes into the scientist’s ear, and his willpower crumbles like dust as he stands up, backing Charlie against the wall as he whines, pinning him to it, determined to make Charlie forget every other word except that one.


End file.
